


seventh

by orphan_account



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Child Abuse, M/M, Manipulation, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21903949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: out of respect, i won't be posting fics with potentially triggering summaries. please read the author's note.
Relationships: Jos Verstappen/Charles Leclerc
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	seventh

**Author's Note:**

> do not read this if you are triggered by child abuse. i do not take responsibility for upsetting people who cannot read warnings. ao3 rules allow me to post work like this, that's all that matters. you should not be using this website, nor the internet, if you cannot stop triggering yourself.  
~  
this pairing was requested. i hope you enjoy it, and i love you.  
i may write a second part to this about how this relationship affects charles as an adult, seeing jos around the paddock etc. comments are much appreciated. merry christmas.

Jos waits. Charles doesn't even look up at him, and already, that irritates him. 

_Look at me, brat. _

Just as Charles is about to hurry past, Jos stops him with a heavy hand on his shoulder. It's kind of funny how the kid whirls round, practically hissing with indignation. As soon as he sees it's Jos, his face twists into bewilderment. No one told him Jos was coming to collect him from the circuit today.  
He gapes, but he doesn't say anything, because Jos doesn't speak French. 

"Come with me," Jos demands in English. The language barrier is going to be a problem. The kid's grasp of English is nowhere near as strong as Max's, and Jos gets frustrated when he can't find the exact words he wants.

Charles stares at him, before confidently he says, "No."

Jos bares his teeth in a smile. "Yes. Your brother says yes."

The boy's expression of defiance crumples into disheartened resignation. "Oh," he whispers, barely audible.

"Don't look so sad," Jos admonishes him. "I'm taking you somewhere nice, okay?"

Charles swallows and doesn't reply. When Jos ushers him into his car, he doesn't resist. Jos gives him a once over before he turns the keys in the ignition, and he's only just starting to appreciate how _small _he is. Max is built like his dad, stocky and muscular. Charles is skinny like a twig, although he's shot up in height. He folds his arms stubbornly and slumps back in the seat, with a face like thunder. Jos tries not to laugh, because the spoilt brat is bound to hate that, and if he wants to get anything out of him- or rather, _into_ him, he knows the Leclerc family would prefer it went as smoothly as possible. 

When the older boy, Lorenzo, had laid out the terms, Jos had scoffed at the way they treated Charles like a little porcelain doll. 'Make sure he cums too', 'use lube', 'don't choke him, because he doesn't like it'. Jos wasn't one of _those_ fathers; all this had started out as an alternative means of punishment for his headstrong son. Max responded well to violence, and sometimes spanking didn't cut it. Sometimes beating him didn't cut it. He finds that the best way to get Max's unfaltering obedience is to force himself inside his son's unprepared ass until he bleeds.

Charles is a diva. If Jos tries anything like that, Papa will be the first to know, and he won't be happy. Jos isn't stupid. There's no point risking his reputation and Max's career just to rough the kid up a little. Not when there's fun to be had in coaxing him into it willingly. 

"We can go see a movie," Jos suggests, gauging Charles' reaction, who doesn't seem enthusiastic. He keeps his gaze resolutely averted, chin resting on his chest, eyes fixed on the floor. Jos wills himself to calm down and not let the little brat's ungratefulness get to him. 

"Okay," he tries again lightly. "Do you like ice cream?"

_Fucking jackpot._

Charles' gaze flickers up to his, eyes wide. "Ice cream?" he repeats, his accent thick. 

"Yeah, there's a place up the road. I can take you. Do you want that, then?"

Charles sighs and he looks away. "I am not allowed."

"What?"

"I am not allowed ice cream. I have..." He frowns as he struggles to remember the word. "_Un régime?"_

"I don't speak French," Jos snaps. 

"I'm sorry!" Charles shrinks away. "I don't know what it's called. No bad food."

"...A diet?"

"Yes," Charles nods, looking relieved. "A diet. Lorenzo does not want me to get big."

Jos whistles in disbelief. That is _harsh. _Sometimes he thinks he might be a little hard on Max, but he'd never stoop to this kind of punishment. But maybe it's not really a punishment. They just want to keep Charles young and small forever, so they can live out their creepy fantasies even after puberty hits. He makes a mental note to remind Max that his life could be a lot worse. 

Jos is grudgingly impressed at the kid's ability to race without being fed properly, and he's pleased he managed to find some kind of bribe that will work on him. Every kid has one. It's cute that Charles' is _ice cream. _

"It's all right. Your brother won't mind, just a treat, for one time," he says.

"I don't want him to be angry," Charles replies meekly, looking up at Jos with pleading eyes. Fuck, he wishes he had a camera. The kid is stupidly pretty.

"You don't want me to be angry either, Charles," Jos tells him through gritted teeth, his patience wearing thin. "Your brother does not have to know."

The boy worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, thinking it over as though he'll have any choice in the end. The seconds tick by and Jos is very close to grabbing him by the throat and explaining that he really has no preference over whether Charles gets fucked with a belly full of ice cream or not. 

"Okay," he decides.

_Good answer._

Jos starts the car and they make the five minute journey to the ice-cream parlor. On the way, he asks, "You know my son Max, don't you?"

In the mirror, he sees Charles shift uncomfortably. "Yes."

"What do you think of him?"

Charles looks pained. "He's... he's very fast."

Jos laughs. There's no love lost between Charles and his son, but perhaps they'll get friendlier when they realize how much they have in common. And friendliness can always be forced. There exists a bond between boys who are forced to have sex with each other in front of a crowd of leering men. Jos wasn't too opposed to the idea when Lorenzo suggested it. 

He parks the car outside of the parlor and turns in his seat to face his passenger. 

"Here are the rules," he begins. "I buy you any ice cream you want. You do something for me, yes? Do you understand what I mean?"

Charles nods. 

"Good boy. Come on then."

They walk into the store together like father and son. No one gives them a second glance- why would they? or only to smile at sweet young Charles being treated to an ice cream by his daddy. 

Charles gets to the counter and his eyes go wide like saucers. He presses his hands to the glass, on the verge of drooling over the vast selection of ice cream, frozen yogurt and sorbet. Jos allows him generous time to choose. Every flavor imaginable in all the colors of the rainbow; of course it's overwhelming for a child whose diet is restricted so severely. 

"Which?" Jos prompts.

Charles turns around, licking his lips distractingly. "Strawberry?" he asks tentatively, butchering the pronunciation in a way that somehow manages to be endearing. Jos finds it strange that he chose such a boring, unremarkable flavor, but he thinks Charles will look good with his mouth smeared in pink.

He pays, and the man at the counter smiles warmly down at Charles as he hands over the enormous ice cream on its chocolate-coated cone. Charles looks like Christmas has come early and it's dare he say heartwarming. Jos wishes Max and Victoria were as satisfied with the simple things in life. 

He doesn't want the ice cream spilled in his car, but he can't watch Charles in his current predatory manner in public.

"You can't spill it," he warns.

Charles nods, lapping his way delicately but ceaselessly around the ice cream, not even stopping to take breath. The rate he's going, he'll be finished with it in a few minutes. Jos opens the car door for him and he settles back inside. 

"Make it last."

Finally, Charles slows down a little. Jos doubts it's intentional, but the show he's putting on is practically pornographic. His eyes flutter closed in bliss as his cute tongue works the ice cream, and he can't help but make a soft, appreciative noise. 

Jos can feel his dick getting hard. Sadly, he's already resigned himself to the fact that he won't be able to get inside Charles today. He doesn't want to risk anyone seeing him take a kid back to his hotel room, there's nowhere else private enough to go, he didn't bring lube, and it would be difficult to fuck the boy properly in the backseat of the car. It's not the end of the world- he has Max's sweet ass to come home to, and he's sure that this is just the start of a new relationship with Charles and his family. 

He would have been satisfied with a blowjob, but now that doesn't look likely either. He doesn't want Charles to go home with the taste of Jos' dick in his mouth, but rather the taste of strawberry ice cream, and the promise of another if he's good.

Yeah. Although it drives him crazy, he has to wait if he wants to reap the rewards.

"You like it?" he asks. He cups Charles' face and brushes his thumb over his bottom lip, gathering up some of the ice cream and pressing it back into his mouth. Charles dutifully licks his thumb clean, and sucks innocently on it for good measure. God, he's good. They really trained him well. 

Charles quietly finishes his ice cream, crunching through the wafer cone and licking his lips of crumbs. He's in some kind of daze, a sugar-high, that makes him compliant and content. He sighs happily and looks at Jos from under his eyelashes, in some way expectant- you did me a favor, and now it is my turn.

"I want a taste, too," Jos tells him. "Give me a kiss."

He checks they're in the clear, and lifts Charles to settle onto his lap. He sweetly presses his lips to Jos', who wastes no time in pushing his tongue in Charles' mouth to chase the strawberry flavor. The boy kisses back- he's good at it, grinding subtly over Jos' erection while Jos hungrily runs his hands over Charles' ribs. It gets intense, his cock straining through his pants, desperate to be buried inside Charles' ass. He snakes a hand down between them to rub over Charles' crotch, and is satisfied to find his cute boydick is hard.

He breaks the kiss before it can go too far. They're both panting, eyes dark with arousal. 

"That's it," Jos sighs. "The next time I see you, more ice cream. And we do something more than kissing."

"Yes," Charles agrees, breathless. He seems disappointed that Jos didn't take it further, which is a job well done as far as he's concerned. Leave the boy wanting more, not dreading it. 

"I'll drive you to your hotel," Jos decides. Charles extricates himself from his lap, understanding when he's being dismissed. 

Christ, Jos can barely think properly, his cock is so hard. He gives himself a few moments to calm down, and decides that when he gets home, he's gonna fuck Max so hard he won't be able to sit in a kart for a few days.


End file.
